The Answers Are Here
To tell the truth, I don't really know if my faith is beyond the shaking point. Coming home tonight with the music futilly staving off the incurable loneliness of the insomniacal drive, I was shaken awake from my trance when I passed an owl that almost hit the car. Its wings flashed white as it veered off its path into the breeze, bringing to mind those old childhood notions of phantoms and eidolons just out of eyeshot. Always, they hung on the edge of vision, occasionally blundering into our sight through imagination's doors. Shuddering back into consciousness, I wondered aloud if I'm cut out for this life of questions under every stone I turn - or if the fabric of my being will tear and shred under the stretching of the tests of faith. I look at all the folks I've ever seen as role models and wonder if any of us really know anything at all about this faith we profess. I do long for a person to sit with me and teach me, or at least give me the comfort of telling me that they don't know either. Is it right that the only difference I see between myself and unbelievers is the faint hope that I will be accepted by You whom I know to be Love and long to know through sight? What of the days when I feel nothing - least of all, motivation to have mercy?
Are you raising up a harlot for the schooling of the bride? Is it me?